There once was a man
His skin was made of milk-white wax
Though his flesh was still made of tissue and
Blood
Now, being such a peculiar
Person
He was, understandably, shunned by
The people

So, to prove his worth
He sought to make the people trust him
Depend on him
Seek him
Worship him

And he had a brilliant idea
See, the town was a dark place
No lights, no warmth, no guidance
It was an abyss, a plateau of darkness
When it was night, the streets vacated
Everyone slams their bolts tight shut
Fearing the beasts that roam

“Why not,” He thought
“I become this town’s only light;
That way it would only be right
That they love me with all their might”

And so he did,
Every night, when the sun fades
He would set himself ablaze
Now, to the people,
He was their light in the dark
He was their warmth in the cold
He was no longer an unsightly beast
He was their guidance in the cold abyss

And while the benefits were aplenty
The pain was doubled twice more
The fire bit and ate away at his
Smooth white skin
The forked flames cut deep into his
Untouched flesh

He burned, burned, burned
Till he could burn no more
For there was nought to burn:
His pearl-white husk had been
Melted off into a heap of ash
His crimson-red flesh had been
Charred into a blackened mesh

But it wanted more
And so did the people
They stuffed it full of fat and blubber
They made it drink oil instead of water
They stabbed it with sticks and coal
All so that the fire wouldn’t go cold

Now, you might think
“Such a peculiar
Thing
Couldn’t possibly be accepted by
The people?”
Oh but they did
They worshipped it
They loved it
They sought after it

In the end,
It
gained and so did
the people
But not
him.